desertion

104

NATHANIEL

I sat in my car, staring at the house in front of me. Lydia's house. Her car was the only one in the driveway, which meant she was alone. That was a relief, I guess. This would be easier without anyone else around to interrupt, though I wasn't exactly sure how the conversation would go.

With a heavy sigh, I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out, shutting the car door behind me. The air was cool, the faint scent of freshly cut grass lingering. I stuffed my hands into my pockets as I made my way up the steps to her porch, my shoes thudding lightly against the wooden boards.

I knocked, three short raps, and waited. The seconds stretched out, and I wondered if maybe she'd seen me through the window and decided not to answer.

Then the door opened.

Lydia stood there, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise as she leaned against the doorframe. She looked tired-like she hadn't been sleeping much-and there was something hesitant in her posture, like she wasn't sure what to make of me showing up unannounced.

"Hi," she said, her voice cautious.

"Hey," I replied, trying to sound casual even though my heart was pounding. "Can I come in?"

She hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Yeah, sure."

She stepped aside, biting the inside of her cheek as I walked past her into the house. The door clicked shut behind me, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

Lydia gestured toward the kitchen. "Come on," she said softly, leading the way.

I followed her, the familiar layout of the house comforting in its own way. The kitchen was clean, a plate of cookies sitting on the counter. She'd probably baked them earlier-it was something she did when she needed to clear her head.

She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms as she looked at me. "How are you?" she asked, her tone polite but distant.

"I'm fine," I said, shrugging. "How about you?"

"I'm good."

The room fell silent, the only sound the faint hum of the refrigerator.

After what felt like forever, Lydia cleared her throat. "So... what do you need, Nathaniel?"

I nodded, taking a breath to steady myself. "I think you need to talk to Miles."

Her eyebrows shot up, and she gave me a look like I'd just told her the sky was green. "Why?"

"Because," I said, meeting her gaze, "he's miserable without you. And let's be honest-you're miserable without him too. Don't even try to deny it. It's obvious."

She bit the inside of her cheek again, her eyes narrowing slightly as she processed what I'd said.

After a long pause, she sighed. "If he's so miserable, why didn't he come over here himself?"

I hesitated, knowing this part would sound... less than convincing. "He doesn't know I'm here."

Her eyes narrowed further, scrutinizing my face like she was searching for any sign of a lie. I held her gaze, determined to let her see that I was telling the truth.

Finally, she nodded. "Okay. I'll talk to him."

Relief flooded through me, and I smiled softly. "Good."

But then her expression shifted, a flicker of hurt crossing her face. "Why didn't you guys invite me yesterday?"

I froze, guilt twisting in my gut. I looked down at the floor, unable to meet her eyes. "Because... Miles wanted our help finding something for you."

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Something for me?"

I nodded, keeping my gaze down. "Yeah."

She didn't press further, though I could tell she wanted to. Instead, she sighed and leaned back against the counter, her arms still crossed.

We stood there for a moment, the tension easing slightly as the conversation shifted.

"So," I said, leaning against the counter opposite her. "How's college prep going?"

She rolled her eyes, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Stressful. There's so much to do, and it feels like I'm running out of time."

"I know, but you'll figure it out," I said confidently. "You always do."

She chuckled softly. "Thanks, Nate."

We kept talking, the conversation flowing more easily now. We talked about her college plans, her classes, and even the cookies she'd baked earlier.

For a little while, it felt like old times, like everything was normal again.

And as I left her house later that day, I couldn't help but hope that maybe-just maybe-things would start to fall back into place. For her. For Miles. For all of us.